Want your revenge
by Lady Talla-doe
Summary: He didn't understand; his hate was without focus, without reason. But Black Hat would make him understand.   Black Hat/Priest. Stand alone/unrelated.


**I am coming to understand why there's so little smutt of these two. They. **_**Hate**_**. Us. **

**It took far too much effort to write this, so go kiss LordxXxofxXxDorkness 's feet, because since she bought me ice cream, I am honour bound to write a real sex scene between these two as well.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or the story from which they originate. If I did, the holy brothers would have violated their vows with each other... several times. **

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><p><em><strong>Want your revenge<strong>_**.**

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><p>Black Hat jerked into wakefulness with a snarl, knocking his battered hat off his head with the sudden movement. It fell unnoticed to the floor as he stood, raking his hands through his hair. Gold eyes darted about the room, sliding over the familiar surroundings as they were replaced by the fragments of his dream.<p>

_...Damp skin, broken by scars, sliding under his hands, as a hot mouth fixed its self over his pulse, flat teeth nipping, tongue soothing, sucking, lips moulded to his skin..._

"God _dammit_!" _No._ He denied the images, pushing them away with. _Focus_. But the images kept drifting up from his subconscious, shaking his resolve. His body was responding, even if his mind wasn't; he growl in irritation, dragging the heel of his palm across his crotch, grinding the rough denim against his growing hard-on. He didn't have time for this, needed to focus on the day ahead, but his body throbbed with the memory of the dream.

_The phantom sensation of hands moving over his flesh- the slide of skin under his own palms._

It was a persistent, worming through his thoughts until he could no longer deny it. With a growl, he threw himself back down into his chair, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes. Images flashed behind his eyes, half remembered fantasies.

_Priest, stark against the barren landscape. Priest, dust sticking to his damp skin; Priest, body tight, the cords of his neck standing out as he climaxed. _Black hat grit his teeth, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.

_Priest, blue eyes hazy with lust; Priest, head hanging, chest heaving as he adjusted to the intrusion; the rush of sweet, copper blood across his tongue, tasting his pleasure, his fear. _

The former Priest shuddered, stroking his flesh faster, sliding his thump over the weeping crown, and dove deeper into the fantasies.

_Priest, writhing under him, pinned by the weight of his body, hands bound above his head. Blue eyes, so alive with hate, with fear – watching them widen, as he forced his legs apart. The dawning horror in his pale face._

Black Hat chuckled darkly; he liked where this one was going. The tone was far more appropriate. He flicked his hand, hips twitching into his calloused palm. As heat flowed down his spine, pooling in his stomach, he let the fantasy run its course.

_Horror, fear, his voice thick with it, begging him not to- "Do not do this!" Grinning, as he gripped his hips, lifting the struggling man easily. The shock, as two fingers pushed into him. Covering his naked body with his own, as his fingers worked within his once-Brother. "D-Do not," a stammering beg, even as his face flushed, body waking up under his attentions. Blue eyes avoiding his gaze; turning his face, _forcing_ him to look him in the eyes. Delicious shame. So very delicious. _

_The pained, disgusted face when he added a third finger; transforming into simple pain, the first over-bright, betrayed look, as he violates him, dragging Priest's tense body down his cock. Forcing his face to him, pressing a mockingly tender kiss to his lips; catching the tear with his tongue, as he slid a hand down the unwilling body beneath him, pumping his hard flesh. Never letting those blue eyes look away, never giving him a moment to escape._

"_Where is your church now?" Spoken into his throat, as he tastes his pulse, running his tongue over the thin flesh. "Where are your fellows?" Betrayal, anger, hate. Bright, brilliant, resilient emotions; pleasure, shame, fear. Weak, wretched, beautiful emotions. All clashing, fighting for dominance. Thrusting harder, soiling him._

"_You're mine now."_

_It's there now, in his eyes. He can see it, the vow for revenge. Priest understands now. He forces the pace, forces the pleasure, until the body underneath him goes taunt, keening as he comes._

Pleasure rips through his abdomen, whiting out his vision as his body tenses, hips snapping into his hand, as he comes over his hand, feeling drops land on his abdomen, and legs. The orgasm caught him up in its talons, and dropped him limp and spent, on the other side.

After a moment, he collects himself, cleaning away the cooling cum with one of the fine linen napkins set out for the meal. Oddly, he reflects as he disposes of the evidence, he doesn't feel less determined having given into the fantasies. To the contrary, now he has resolve. He will convert Priest. He will make him understand.

From today onward, he would crave his revenge.


End file.
